Less Than Strangers
by Asidian
Summary: Midvalley finds himself wondering how he and Wolfwood fell so far, so fast... and if things will ever be the same. (warnings: angst, yaoi)


Author's Notes: This fic took forever for me to finish. Finally, one night after tearing my hair out over it, I was just ready to trash the whole thing, so I decided to end it. Cause I don't think I could've done any more without losing my mind. So... I really, really don't like the ending. It might change.  
  
The song is "Less Than Strangers" by Tracy Chapman. Incidentally, it's the only song by her that I can stand. ^^;;  
  
And now, since I've talked way too much already....  
  
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Less Than Strangers  
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The people that know me best see a murderer, and a musician, and a drunk. Just the lazy smile, the flash of a white coat and the metallic gleam of a saxophone.  
  
They don't know me at all.   
  
None of them know my reasons, or my mind, or my heart. They don't know the nightmares that wake me in the dark, or any of the thousand regrets I live with, every second of every day.  
  
They don't understand.  
  
And so I lose myself, in the din of the bars I frequent, and the smell of smoke, and the taste of cheap liquor.   
  
I like places like that. They remind me of him.  
  
/You and me   
Had some history /  
  
It's lonely sometimes, when all the people in a tavern are laughing, talking between themselves in voices that are a bit too loud. And it's hard being alone, remembering the nights when we would do the same, drunk and careless, and too far gone to remember what we were trying to forget.  
  
I can't shake the thoughts that always come to me, can't quite hold off the memories of the way he'd smile, when he let everything else fall away.  
  
/Had a semblance of honesty   
All that has changed now /  
  
I miss him. I know that now.  
  
It took me a long time to come to terms with it, but it's true.   
  
I miss having someone to talk to- really talk to- and having him understand. I miss having him listen, and listening to him, even when we were both too plastered to make any sense.  
  
/We shared words   
Only lovers speak /  
  
I miss the nights when we'd fall together, exhausted, sweating, and stay perfectly still until our pulses had slowed, and we could finally breathe again.   
  
I miss the feel of his body warm against mine, when he would stay with me till morning, and the whispers we shared in the dark, both of us hoping the words wouldn't be remembered when the suns rose.  
  
/How can it be   
We are less than strangers? /  
  
I remember our last time together, the look in his eyes and the distance in his voice. I remember his words, and a name, and an explanation that wasn't good enough.  
  
That still isn't.  
  
/Oh, it hurts to lose in love   
Let anger and cruelty win /  
  
I never expected that he'd always be here. I never even hoped, really, that he'd understand, or know what it was that I wanted.  
  
But seeing him from such a distance hurts, and I can't help but wonder whether they've spent nights together, alone in the dark, closer to each other than he ever felt to me.  
  
I spend a lot of time hating them, for sending him away.   
  
It's been far too long since I've seen him smile at me.  
  
/It's unfair that you doubt your feelings   
And that you'll ever love again /  
  
I wonder sometimes, if he misses me.   
  
If, every now and then, he'll hear the sad strains of a saxophone and think of me, or imagine that he catches a flash of white from the corner of his eye.   
  
I hope he does.   
  
It's not fair of me, I know, but I don't care. I need something to hope for, without him here.  
  
/I know that hearts can change   
Like the seasons and the wind /  
  
I knew, when he left, that it wouldn't last. Some part of me knew, and accepted it, and understood that he wouldn't look back.   
  
I don't blame him... but that doesn't make it any better. Or make me miss him any less.  
  
/But when I said forever   
I thought that we'd always be friends /  
  
God knows I didn't want forever. I didn't look further than one night at a time, never hoped for anything beyond whispers lost in the dark or words too lost in passion to have any real meaning.  
  
I just wish there had been a few more of those nights, and a few more words for me to cling to.  
  
/You and me   
Had some history /  
  
It hurts sometimes, remembering the way we used to be.   
  
Not happy; with what we do, happiness isn't even a part of the question. No one can be truly happy on this planet, he told me once, and I think I believe him.   
  
We weren't happy... but we weren't miserable.   
  
Before he left, there were times when I would wake up in the morning, and have something to look forward to. There were days that I could almost forget the screams of the dying, and the empty eyes of a man who had come years ago, collecting knives.  
  
/Had a semblance of honesty   
All that has changed now /  
  
There were times when I could forget who I was, and what we were, and tell him the things that kept me awake at night. And he would talk to me about what he would have done, if things had been different.  
  
I wish they had been. God, how I miss him.  
  
/We shared words   
Only lovers speak /  
  
I wonder about that a lot... how we might have been, if we'd come together in another way. If we'd met under different circumstances, just two idiots in a bar, not talking about anything bigger than his orphans, or my next gig.  
  
I wonder whether I could have told him what I wanted to say, and found a way to let him know I meant it.  
  
/How can it be   
We are less than strangers? /  
  
But I know that I could never say it, even if he was here. Not with so much looming above us, with so much left unknown. Even if he was standing before me, smiling the way he does sometimes, unguarded and almost happy, I couldn't tell him. I don't think I have it in me, don't think I could make him understand.  
  
I don't even think I could tell him how much I've missed him.  
  
...but I guess I don't have to worry about it. I don't have the chance anymore.  
  
He isn't here anymore, and all I can do is wait, and hope he'll come back.  
  
/Thought I saw you yesterday   
Thought I passed you on the street /  
  
I saw him not long ago; I was almost grateful we didn't get to talk, because I know I wouldn't have sounded the same. I've been thinking a lot about him, lately.  
  
It was an accident, a chance meeting; we passed on a crowded street, separated by the moving bodies of half a dozen people.   
  
But I saw him, and that's really all that mattered.  
  
I would know him anywhere; I know the cut of his suit, the way he moves, the reckless edge to his laughter and the distinctive drawl in his words. For the first time in over a year, I saw his face, heard his voice.   
  
He was close enough for me to smell the smoke from his cigarette.  
  
/I swear I saw your face   
I was not imagining /  
  
I saw him. Just a face in the crowd, one of hundreds on the busy streets, but oh so very familiar.  
  
I looked into his eyes, as close to untroubled as I've ever seen them, saw his lips parted in a laugh, watched as he leaned against his companion with a carelessness I envied.   
  
I saw him, and he was more real than any of my thousand dreams since he's been gone...   
  
...and it was all I could do not to go to him, not to touch him.  
  
/You stole a glance my way   
Walked away from me /  
  
He saw me too, I think. Glanced my way, but only for a moment, as he passed me by.  
  
I'm not sure what the look he gave me was supposed to mean, not sure I even want to guess.  
  
The emotion that lingered in his eyes for those few seconds could have been a hundred different things. Anything at all. Or maybe just my imagination.  
  
Then he was gone, just like that.  
  
Looking back, I can't quite convince myself that it wasn't a dream.  
  
/My heart it may be broken   
But my eyes are dry to see /  
  
Staring into my drink, I let the sound of laughter filter into my private musings. Something about the voices, careless and loud, always makes me melancholy. It was on nights like these that we had our conversations about happiness.  
  
I think it came from being away from everyone else. God knows, none of them are happy.  
  
I press my fingers to the bridge of my nose, and close my eyes, fighting something I thought I'd forgotten how to feel.  
  
/You and me  
Had some history /  
  
He always liked places like this. He liked the cheap booze, and the noise, and listening to me play. He liked that no one asked questions.  
  
/Had a semblance of honesty   
All that has changed now /  
  
Worrying about him won't get me anywhere, and it isn't as though he'll get into trouble. He's as capable as anyone. He can take care of himself; I know that.   
  
I just wish I was with him. To watch out for him, and to he'll get back in one piece.  
  
/We shared words   
Only lovers speak /  
  
I think I'll take him out drinking, when he comes back.   
  
/How can it be   
We are less than strangers?/  
  
...If he comes back.  
  
~owari~ 


End file.
